Snow on Red Maples
by Evolutionary Marvel
Summary: Takashi Morinozuka enjoys the simple pleasures of life: kendo, tea, and peace. But when he bumps into Sumiko Ikeda, his life gets a whole lot more chaotic... Rated T for language and some adult themes.
1. History and Hysterics

Chapter 1.

Takashi Morinozuka (known as Mori to his friends) leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The professor for his Modern History class had a deep, droning voice that put a least 80% of his students to sleep almost instantly, leaving them to beg their more alert neighbors for notes. Takashi was in the remaining 20%, although Professor Takeda's long (though interesting) lectures did make him slightly drowsy. It didn't help that half the time he couldn't even hear the professor over the whispering squeals of his female neighbors every time he stretched or ran a hand through his hair. He had begun trying to sit in the back of the lecture hall, between two boys at each class, but the girls had figured that one out and started to come in early and fill up the back row. Eventually, he'd had to resort to his current strategy, which was to sit in the corner, between Imai-san, who had taken pity on him and agreed to be his shield (personally, he thought that the fact that a girl always sat next to Imai-san in an attempt to get Takashi to look at her was a definite factor in the young man's willingness to help the tall freshman) and the wall.

At three o'clock, the class ended. Takashi gathered his books together and began the walk to the Mathematics building to wait for Mitsukuni, as he always did on Fridays. The university campus was large, but Takashi had always walked quickly, partly because of his long legs and partly because his father had drilled into him at a very early age that any trace of slowness leaves openings for enemies to strike. He didn't think that anyone was going to attack him, but the stoic Morinozuka had always had trouble breaking habits. Unfortunately, this included his habit of not looking where he was going. Usually his reflexes were enough to keep him from bumping into people, but on occasion (and only on his off days) they failed him.

It appeared that today was one of those days.

He had just turned the corner of the building with his head tilted up to see if the rather ominous clouds overhead were moving away (which they weren't) when he heard an "oof", and felt something connect with his shoulder with just a little too much inertia behind it. He stumbled back a few steps, regained his balance , and looked down to see a girl sitting on the pavement in front of him. There were books and papers scattered around her.

"Oh _shit_!" the girl said, and then obviously realizing she had bumped into someone, glanced up at him. "Sorry," she said shortly, and began to crawl around on her knees to pick up her thing.

Takashi blinked for a moment, a bit thrown off by the girl's dismissive attitude, but his good upbringing prevailed and he crouched down to help pick up the papers as well.

They had gotten about a third of the pages off the ground (the books had been stacked in a pile next to the building) when the clouds finally burst.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" the girl roared, trying desperately to simultaneously shield her fistful of paper under her jacket and pick up the now increasingly damp sheets off the ground.

When she tried to pick up an especially wet page and it ripped in half, she sat back on her heels and buried her face in her hands. It took Takashi a moment to realize that she was crying.

He looked around helplessly. He had never been very good at comforting hysterical females. Eventually, he decided to sit next to the crying girl and hold his jacket above both of them. He patted her arm awkwardly with his free hand.

The girl's head whipped around with such speed that Takashi was surprised it didn't twist off.

"_You_!" she hissed, glaring at him venomously, "This is all _your_ fault!"

Takashi blinked in surprise. How was it _his_ fault? He had just been walking along, minding his own business, when _she_ had bumped into him! It was her fault, for carrying too many books and things.

He expressed this in a single "_Hm_?" that seemed to infuriate the girl more.

"Yes, _you_! If you had watched where you were going, this wouldn't have happened!" She paused and looked around at the scattered sheets and burst into tears again. "Now I've got to write my history paper _all over again_!" she whimpered, and Takashi winced. From the number of pages around them, he could see that her paper had been quite long. It would probably take a long time to re-write it.

"Notes?" he inquired hopefully. Maybe the damage was not quite as bad as he had thought. Maybe her notes were still intact, and he hadn't possibly ruined someone's perfect average.

His hopes were dashed when the girl gestured hopelessly around her. "_All_ of my papers were here. I was just about to go to the library to finish the last page." She rubbed her eye with a muddy fist. "I guess I'll just have to renew the books and start over."

Takashi felt a stab of guilt. True, it hadn't been totally his fault, but he had been a definite factor in the loss of the girl's hard work.

"Can I help?" he asked, impulsively.

The girl looked up at him with a wry smile on her tear-streaked features. "I'm afraid there's not much you can do to help, unless you happen to have a collection of books on weaponry during the Muromachi period."

Takashi blinked again.

"I do," he said, slightly surprised.

There was a frozen moment before the girl launched herself at him and seized his collar. "_Where?_" she demanded, her eyes blazing.

Takashi was quite surprised by this sudden action, to say the least, but he managed to keep (most of) his composure.

"Back in my dormitory room," he said, a little unsure of whether or not telling this strange female which building he lived in was a good idea.

But apparently, the girl did have some courtesy. "Would you be willing to let me borrow them?" she asked, her whole face pleading. "I promise I'll return them in good condition." She paused, obviously struck by something, before standing hurriedly and bowing to him. "And I'm very sorry I bumped into you and yelled at you."

Takashi stood as well, a little embarrassed by her sudden apology. When she straightened, they both blinked. Takashi had, as was his habit when talking to _anyone_, looked down about two feet below his own eye level, as this was where most people's faces were in comparison to his own. Unfortunately, this resulted it him staring straight down at the girl's (rather ample) cleavage. He hastily snapped his eyes back up, his face beginning to heat up.

The strange girl had looked straight ahead, and he could see from her expression when their eyes finally met that she had also been expecting someone a bit shorter. Because, compared to most of the girls Takashi knew, this girl was _tall_. Her head reached his collarbone, and he could almost look her in the eye. He probably wouldn't be able to see the top of her head of she wore heels (which would be a silly thing to do, seeing that she was already so tall).

"Well?" the girl prompted, jerking him back from his thoughts, "I'm reliable, I swear!"

"All right," he said calmly, "I'll get them for you."

"Really? Right now?" the girl said, obviously excited. Then she stopped, seeming to recall herself (really, it was almost laughable how easy it was to read her emotions). She shook her head. "Actually, I have to get to class now, and I bet you do too. How about you give them to me tomorrow? I'll wait at the library at one." She grinned hopefully. "Would that work?"

He nodded, a little dazed at how energetic she was.

"Oh great!" She turned on her heel, obviously about to leave, when she suddenly spun around again. "Oh, what's your name?"

"Takashi Morinozuka." He paused for a second before inquiring "Yours?"

She smiled at him luminously. " Sumiko Ikeda," she said.

Then she was gone.


	2. Kouda and Kyudo

Author's Note: I will not be able to update until Monday, June 7. I'm sorry for the odd updating schedule.

Chapter 2. Kouda and Kyudo

The next day had the kind of perfect weather that only comes after a fall rainstorm, with cool temperatures and clear skies. Takashi was sitting at one of the tables in the university library, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his jacket slung over the back of the chair.

He looked up when a bag was unceremoniously dumped in front of him. Then he blinked a couple of times to make sure his eyes were working properly. The girl he had bumped into yesterday, Sumiko Ikeda, was bundled up in a coat and scarf like it was thirty degrees outside. He glanced out the window, just to make sure there hadn't been a freak blizzard while he had been sitting inside. Outside, a red-hued leaf drifted picturesquely to the ground against a backdrop of immacuately kept lawns. There was not a snowflake in sight. He turned his attention back to Ikeda and raised his eyebrows quizzically.

"Cold?" he inquired.

She grinned back, unabashed. "Yup! I get cold really easily. I think I'm the only person I know who wears long sleeves in June."

He thought back to the day before, when they had had their rather sudden meeting, and realized that her coat had been unusually heavy, even then.

"Why?" he asked, wondering at her unusual sensitivity.

"Well," she said, "I grew up in Kushima, Miyazaki. My family moved to Kyoto because of Otousan's work. I guess I never really adjusted to the climate, although I sometimes felt slightly chilly in Kyushu as well." She shrugged. "My brother says I'm like an old lady, always complaining of the cold."

He smiled slightly at this, but drew back in surprise when she clapped her hands. "Aha! So you do have expressions! Yesterday, you barely even looked surprised when I bumped into you. You just sort of stood there and looked at me." She ducked her head, her expression apologetic. "That was the reason I got mad at you. I hate it when people just look at someone who needs help, instead of helping them." She bowed. "Again, I'm sorry."

"Mm." Takashi said. He blinked again, suddenly remembering why they were there. He grabbed his bag out from behind him and pulled out three worn volumes.

"Here," he said, depositing them on the table in front of the girl. She snatched them up like a child with a chocolate bar, grinning widely.

" Ooh! Goro Kouda! He was an such an incredible historian!" She opened one of the books and looked at the title page.

Then she froze.

Very slowly she closed the book and looked at Takashi with eyes so wide he wondered if they would pop out of her head.

"Were you aware that this is a _first_ _edition_?" she asked in an awed voice.

"Ah."

"A _first edition_ by _Goro Kouda_?"

"Ah."

Ikeda took a deep breath. "How on earth did you get your hands on this?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm. He could see her actually shaking with excitement.

" 'These'," he corrected her. "They're all first editions."

Her eyes actually got bigger. He hadn't thought that was possible. She opened another and clapped her hands to her mouth.

"And I've never even seen _this _one before. _A History of Early Japanese Use of Firearms._ I thought I had read all of Kouda's books!"

"It's never been printed."

Now her mouth dropped open. She looked almost exactly like a surprised cartoon character, exaggerated to the point of ridiculousness. "_How did you-?_"

" Kouda was was my grandfather," he explained.

"Your _grandfather_ was _Goro Kouda_?"

"Daichi Morinozuka. Kouda was a pseudonym."

"Wow." She sat back in her chair. "I never...that's incredible."

"Not really."

She shook her head. "And you're letting me look at these?"

"Ah."

"I'm not dreaming, am I?"

He smiled again. "No."

"Well..._thanks_! I'll have even better material now!" She paused. "Do you mind if I start now?"

He shook his head, and almost immediately she pulled out a spiral bound notebook, opened it, and then began to flip through the borrowed history book.

He rose to go, and she looked up, startled. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"You're working," he said, slightly perplexed.

"Oh, you don't have to go. In fact, it would probably be best if you stayed. That way, I won't give into temptation and steal your books."

He smiled slightly and sank back into his seat. Ikeda began to read again almost immediately.

Takashi found himself watching her as she worked. When not wet, muddy and crying, she was quite pretty. She had the kind of figure that he considered particuarly comely, tall but not too thin. And with very nice curves…

A sudden thump jerked him out of his reverie. He shook his head to clear it, a blush spreading over his face. He was here to help Ikeda, not to ogle her. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, falling into his kendo breathing routines easily. The world faded around him, and he felt his limbs relax.

The next thing he knew, Ikeda was shaking his shoulder. "Hey," she said, "Are you sleeping?"

Takashi opened his eyes to see Ikeda's face hovering a few inches from his own.

"No. Meditating."

"Oh." She sat back and grinned at him. "Well, I've finished with this one, so you can take it back. Thanks again."

He nodded slightly, and she tilted her head to the side and looked at him. "You know, you're a really calming prescence."

He raised an eyebrow, and she giggled slightly. "It's true! I got much more work done than usual with you here. I tend to get really stressed out when I'm working on a paper. But I wasn't stressed with you here. Maybe it was because of that meditation thing you were doing. Meditation's always calmed me, even when it's other people doing it."

He frowned in bemusement. "You meditate?" Somehow he had trouble imagining the energetic girl sitting quietly for long stretches of time.

"Well," she said, "I do standing meditation during kyudo practice, and my father is an amatuer kendo practitioner, so he does sitting meditation for an hour every day. Sometimes I join him"

"Kyudo?"

"Yup! I'm an archer" Ikeda grinned proudly. "And I can actually hit stuff too. Which is better than most of the others in my dojo."

"Hm," he said, amused.

"Hey, do you want to meet up again tomorrow? That way you won't have to worry about me abducting your books while you're gone, and I honestly got more work done with you here than I've ever done in one sitting. _Ever_." She grinned deviously. "Aaand… I'll treat you to tea…"

Takashi had to admit, he was very tempted. If he stayed tomorrow, he wouldn't have to leave the books with a near-stranger (they were quite delicate, and he liked his grandfather's writing almost as much as Ikeda seemed to), and tea was a very enticing prospect.

"Ah."

"You'll come? Huzzah!" She grinned widely and rose from her seat. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Same place, same time."

Takashi nodded, and stood as well. He looked down at her face (although not very far down, he still couldn't get over how _tall_ she was) and then gently patted her head. She blinked at him, and then smiled again. "You're a very nice fellow." She commented, as she picked up her bag and started walking towards the door. "Goodbye Morinozuka-san!" she called over her shoulder.

It wasn't until Takashi had gotten back to his dormitory that he realized something.

That had been the first time she had ever said his name.

Some Things of Interest:

Miyazaki is one of the prefectures in Kyushu, which is the southernmost island of the four main islands in Japan, so Sumiko grew up in a sub-tropical climate. I'm imagining the university that Takashi and Sumiko go to as Kyoto University, so the autumn weather would be chillier than in Kushima (although wearing long sleeves in June is impressive, as it can get _hot_ in Kyoto!).

Kyudo is Japanese archery, and (although some of my sources are a little dubious) apparently sometimes the practitioners do standing meditation before shooting.


	3. Tea and Talking

Author's Note: Sorry for the incredibly late update: my hospital visit lasted several more days than expected, so I didn't get home until late, late Tuesday evening. Fortunately, although my room had no wireless access, I was able to type up this brand new chapter!

Chapter 3: Tea and Talking

The instant Takashi set foot in the library on Sunday his arm was grabbed by a terrifyingly energetic Sumiko Ikeda, and he was dragged off campus and into the town.

"Sorry about the rush," she panted as she towed him along winding streets, "But we've got to get there before it closes. Sato-sensei lets me stay after hours if I get there before she locks the doors."

"Um," Takashi said in a vaguely understanding tone, and tried furtively wrench his wrist from her death-grip. The girl was pulling him past buildings at an incredible clip; he was a slightly surprised that he wasn't being lifted off the ground like an airplane (he was also wondering how Ikeda had gotten so _tall_ and also why he couldn't stop thinking about her height, which really had _nothing_ to do with the fact that he found tall, plump women attractive).

When they finally halted, he nearly lost his balance at the sudden stop, and had to balance on one foot to keep himself from falling flat on his face.

"We're here!" Ikeda announced, grinning widely. Takashi, now with both feet firmly on the ground, looked up and found himself in front of a small shop with peeling green paint and several dying houseplants in its windows.

"The Cracked Pot!" Ikeda announced, gesturing widely. She looked at Takashi expectantly. "What do you think?"

"Hmm" the boy said in a non-commital tone. Quite honestly, he thought that the shop had seen better days. But he followed Ikeda through the door and into surprisingly pleasant interior.

"SATO-SAN!" Ikeda bellowed as she led Takashi to a table, "IT'S SUMIKO!" Then she shoved him into a chair and sat down herself, humming tunelessly under her breath.

There was some rather alarming clattering from the back room of the shop, an then a tiny, elderly woman emerged through the back room's shadowy doorway and trotted towards where they sat.

"Sumiko-chan!" she cooed, "It's so good to see you again! I…oh my!" She glanced (in a way that she obviously _thought _was surreptitously) at Takashi and smiled coyly. "And you brought a _young man_."

Sumiko nodded energetically. "Yup! He's helping me with my weaponry paper." She glanced at her menu. "I'll have a cup of sencha. What'll you have?" she asked Takashi.

He looked down at the menu. Almost immediately, the terrible struggle of manners and taste began. Should he get bancha tea, the cheapest drink in the shop, or kukicha tea, which was his favorite, but much more expensive? He frowned in concentration as the battle raged in his stomach.

Much to his tastebud's regret, manners won. "Bancha," he said, and attempted to hand his menu to Sato-san. Much to his surprise, Ikeda's hand stopped him.

"No. He'll have a cup of kukicha," she said, and then sat back in her chair and gave him one of her blinding smiles. "I could tell you wanted it," she explained.

"How?" he asked, and noted the puzzled look that spread over her face.

"I… don't know. I just find you easy to read, I guess."

Takashi managed not to fall over in a fit of surprise and laughter, but it was a close save. He had been called many things over the years; the 'wild type', the 'gentle giant', 'the protector'. 'Easy to read' had never been one of them.

"Most people can't," he said.

"It's your eyes," Ikeda said decisively. "You broadcast everything through them. Maybe nobody's able to see what you're thinking because nobody's able to look at your face!"

"Mm."

"Well, anyway," she said, "Do you have the books?"

Ah yes, the books. Takashi pulled them out of his bag and laid them gently on the table. Almost instantly, Ikeda picked up the thickest volume and began to read. Takashi settled in for a long wait.

About ten minutes later, Sato-san tiptoed to their table and laid down two steaming cups in front of them. Takashi lifted his own and took a sip.

And nearly cried at how delicious it was.

The tea was the best cup of kukicha he had ever had. It was creamy and light, and had the delightful nutty flavor of really well brewed tea.

Ikeda had picked up her cup absentmindedly and was gulping it down, still reading voraciously. He couldn't help but notice that Sato-san kept watching them intently, like a mother hen watches her chicks.

Twenty minutes passed, and Sato-san was beginning to look annoyed. After half an hour had gone by, she twitched aside the curtain the curtain that blocked the back room off from the rest of the shop and stalked in.

"Ah, Sumiko-chan? Could you help me for a second?" Sato-san called in a wheedling tone.

Ikeda heaved a sigh and stood, placing the book carefully back onto the table. "Coming Sato-san!" she shouted. "I'll be back in a second," she assured him, and tromped towards where the small woman was.

Takashi sat at the table for a minute before curiosity got the better of him. He got up and walked quietly to the curtain. He was just about to push the cloth to the side and step inside when he heard something that made him stop. Sato-san was saying something.

"…and he's terribly handsome! Will you be getting…involved with him?" Sato-san sounded terribly excited for some reason.

"_No._" Ikeda's voice. "I _told_ you, he's helping me with my paper! That's _it_."

"I'm serious! Good men are hard to find, and as a friend of your dear departed mother, I must encourage you to nab him while he's free." The older woman's voice took on a devilish tone. "You're a good looking girl, you should seduce him! The tall, silent type are always _wild_ in bed."

"_Sato-san!_" Ikeda sounded flustered, and Takashi couldn't blame her. His own face was terribly red as well. She sounded just like Tamaki Suoh had, when the blond boy had assigned Takashi's type. And it didn't help that the more hormonal parts of his brain were agreeing with Sato-san on the 'good looking girl' comment.

He heard hurried footsteps coming towards the doorway, and rushed back to the table. He didn't want Ikeda thinking he was an evesdropper.

When she arrived at their table again, her cheeks were flushed and she was studiously avoiding his eyes.

"I'm halfway done with this book," she muttered, staring at the tabletop, "I'll finish it tommorow."

"Alright. Shall we meet here?" he asked.

She looked up in surprise, and their gazes accidentally met.

The moment stretched on for a very long time.

Then there was a koud thump as Sato-san appeared from some dusty recess of the store and set down a box of tablewares. Their eye contact was broken, and they blinked at each other for a second. Ikeda's face turned redder than a piece of tuna sashimi.

"O-okay," she stammered, and then suddenly grabbed her bag. "Igottagobye!" she said, and whirled out the door, thrusting some money into the hands of a very startled Sato-san as she did.

Takashi sat in rather stunned silence for a moment, before his attention turned to Sato-san, who was laughing quietly.

"Such a 'proper' girl," she said fondly. She whirled around abruptly and stared at Takashi like a queen stares at a spider who has accidently spun its web in her shoe.

"Take care of her, understand?" she said. Her voice sounded almost angry, and she had a terrifying frown on her face. She stood there for a moment longer, with Takashi frozen in front of her, and then her expression suddenly reverted back to the usual calm smile. "Now, you should get going. Thank you for coming!"

He nodded to the woman, and walked out the door, still rather shell-shocked from Ikeda's sudden exit.

He hoped she wouldn't act as strange tomorrow.

Some Things of Note:

Tea: Bancha is the most common type of green tea, and is considered to be to 'common tea'. Sencha is Japan's most popular tea, and is made by grinding the tea leaves. And finally, kukicha tea is a type of tea made of not only leaves, but also the stalks and twigs. Kukicha tastes more sweet and creamy than most other Japanese teas (I've had it, it's very good.)

And Announcing…

I'll be updating every Wednesday, if I can. However, summer is a busy time for everyone, and my schedule gets pretty hectic during the months of the sun, so the updating schedule might be a little crazy. Please bear with me!


	4. Awkwardness and Antics

Chapter 4.

Monday afternoon, at lunch hour, Takashi walked to the Cracked Pot to meet up with Ikeda. He entered the small shop, greeted to Sato-san (who smiled in an oddly smug way), and sat down at the table that he and Ikeda had occupied the day before.

About ten minutes after he arrived, Ikeda herself came flying through the door, hat askew and coat billowing out behind her like a red woolen sail.

"Sorry I'm late!" she gasped, and staggered to where Takashi sat.

"It's fine," he said quietly, and held out the history books solemnly. Ikeda took them with a slight smile of thanks before she too reached into her bag and extracted a heavy volume titled '_History of the Samurai_'.

"Here," she said, her voice unusually subdued, "I noticed that you never bring anything to entertain you, so… if you want to you can read this."

"…Thanks," he said, and they sat in silence for a moment.

A very awkward silence.

"U-um!" Ikeda said suddenly, "I'm really sorry that I ran out like that yesterday! I… forgot something."

"Hmm." Takashi didn't mention that he knew the real reason that she left. If he did, he would have to that he had eavesdropped on Ikeda and Sato-san's conversation yesterday. And then he would be admitting that he had heard Sato-san's rather… embarassing comments.

Another awkward silence decended over the table.

"Two teas!" Sato-san said, bustling over to them holding a tray with two steaming cups on it, "The same teas you ordered yesterday, I hope you don't mind. Enjoy!" And with that, Sato-san went away, taking with her the two young adult's hopes of conversing with her, instead of sitting in the uncomfortable silence that (yet again) made it impossible to feel the relaxed, quiet sort of understanding that the two had had just yesterday.

Ikeda busied herself with reading and taking notes, occasionally looking up to check the small clock that hung on the opposite wall. Takashi read as well. The book Ikeda had lent him was fascinating, the kind of thorough, thick book that he enjoyed.

He was quite engrossed in chapter six (titled _A Samurai's Katana_) when there was a sudden thump. He looked up to see what the matter was, and saw Ikeda staring at him gravely.

"I've finished with your books," she said, "And I just finished my paper."

Takashi slowly laid Ikeda's book down on the table and pushed it towards her.

"Oh," was all he said.

There was an unnatural quiet in the shop. Takashi thought he saw Sato-san's tiny shoes peeking out from underneath the backroom's door-curtain, but he wasn't sure.

"Um," Ikeda began in a nervous voice, "I'd like us to be friends."

_I'd like us to be friends_.

The words seemed to hang in the air, like feathers on a warm breeze.

Takashi realized that he had never had a girl ask him to be her friend. In fact, the only times most girls spoke to him was either to confess their love (sadly, he was never very interested in the girls who confessed), or when he was doing 'host' duties.

And Ikeda was asking him if they could be friends.

"Of course," he said, "I had rather thought we already were friends."

Ikeda looked at him blankly for a second, and then burst into laughter. "Holy _crap_—" she gasped, her sides shaking with mirth, "the longest sentence I've ever heard you say is the one that makes me feel stupidest." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I think I'd better get used to that. You're a silent, smart person."

She checked the clock and smiled at him happily. "My class starts in about ten minutes, so I'd better get going." Just before she opened the door, she turned and said, "Do you want meet around eleven o'clock tomorrow?"

He nodded his consent and watched her jog down the empty street before downing the last dregs of his tea in one gulp and starting his own walk back to campus.

After that, they met almost every day at eleven for tea. Sato-san began to have their teas at the table when they walked in the door. Mitsukuni would join them sometimes (when Takashi had introduced them they had become fast friends almost instantly) and then Mitsukuni and Ikeda and he would 'talk', although really it was more like Mitsukuni and Ikeda talking to each other, and occasionally asking him his opinion. Ikeda was obviously well known to the other customers (of which there were several, to Takashi'surprise), and they were slowly beginning to welcome the tall freshman into their fold.

One sunny Wednesday, Mitsukuni had joined them in their walk to the Cracked Pot, and as he and Ikeda were conversing, Ikeda suddenly turned to Takashi and asked "Which season do think you think Kyoto looks prettiest in?"

Takashi looked around at the red and yellow trees, at the clear autumn sky, at the roads flanked by banks of delicate leaves, and knew without question that Kyoto was absolutely beautiful in autumn.

"Autumn, huh?" Ikeda said, and smiled rather dreamily as she took in her surroundings. "It _is_ a lovely season."

Takashi had gotten used to Ikeda's ability to translate his silences, and they walked on for a little while, enjoying the silence. He looked down briefly to check on Mitsukuni.

The smaller boy was gone.

Takashi whirled around, feeling the beginnings of his 'protector mode' kicking in, and found that Mitsukuni was standing a few feet behind them, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"Sumi-chan!" the tiny freshman cried, "You can understand Takashi's thoughts! You're like a… a telepath!"

Ikeda blinked in bemusement. "…Telepath?" she asked in a confused tone.

"You knew what he was going to say before he said it!" Mitsukuni was terribly excited. "Ooh, you're like a sci-fi character. Read my mind!" He squinted his eyes shut in an expression of extreme concentration on his face.

"Haninozuka-san," Ikeda said, "I can't read Morinozuka-san's thoughts."

"Well," Mitsukuni said, "Takashi's family and me can also do the 'knowing-what-Takashi-is-thinking-secret-jutsu', and we're not telepaths. So maybe you're a secret cousin!"

"I don't think it's that either. I find it easy to figure out what Morinozuka-san is thinking. It's not anything particularly strange."

"Well, how do you do it? I can't always read Takashi, and we've known each other since birth!"

"I— don't know," Ikeda said, and fell silent.

They walked the rest of the way to the tea shop mutely. Mitsukuni kept eyeing Ikeda with an almost awe-stricken look on his face, and Takashi was just enjoying the rare moment of calm.

Ikeda kept her eyes focused on her shoes, a speculative frown on her face.

Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I'm afarid that I was terribl lazy this week, and totally forgot about writing this chapter until late Monday night… the night before my school's end-of-year all-day hike. So blame my couch potato synapses for the low quality of this chapter.


	5. Invitations and Insanity

Chapter 5: Invitations and Insanity

November rolled in crisp and cold, and when Takashi stepped into the Cracked Pot for his daily cup of kukicha tea Ikeda was waiting for him, wearing an actual _parka _and mittens.

"G-good aftern-noon, M-morinozuka-s-s-san," she said, her teeth chattering with cold.

"Good afternoon Ikeda-san. Cold?"

"S-s-shut up. I feel l-like sh-shit today. Y-you kn-know h-how easily I get c-c-cold."

"It's quite warm in here," he commented, and sat down just as Sato-san came over with their teas.

"Oh, Sumiko-chan! Do you want a blanket?" Sato-san asked, her wrinkled face full of concern for the shivering girl.

"O-oh no, S-s-s-s-s-Sato-s-s-s-"

"It's all right dear. Drink your tea, it's warm."

Ikeda nodded and began to take small sips of the warm liquid, the porcelain making little _chik-chik_ noises against her chattering teeth.

"Takashi-kun, your usual?" Sato-san asked, and when Takashi nodded she hurried to the tiny window set in the wall between kitchen and restaurant to tell the brewer the order. The brewer was a small, shy woman whom Sato-san called 'Tokiko-chan,' and Takashi had only seen her once. Most of the time, she sat in the small kitchen and boiled water and tea leaves.

"So how are you, M-morinozuka san?" Ikeda said, the tremors in her voice dissipating as she drank her tea.

"Fine," he replied, "You?" He gave Sato-san a brief smile of thanks as she returned with his tea. Apparently the brewer had already had it ready.

"Better," she commented, gesturing to the steaming cup in front of her. "Kami, but I hate this weather. I feel like I'm going to become a big icicle one of these days."

Takashi snorted into his cup. "Maybe you should get a haramaki," he suggested.

"I already _have _one," Ikeda complained. "I'm wearing it now." She shrugged her coat off, and gestured to her midriff. Sure enough, there was piece of red cloth wrapped around her stomach (Takashi tried to ignore the way that the haramaki accented the curve of her hips, and failed miserably).

"See?" Ikeda said, and took another gulp of tea.

"Mm." Takashi grunted, and stared rather fixedly at the picture above Ikeda's head (she was his _friend_, he shouldn't stare at her assets, although they were admittedly very nice).

They sat in a comfortable quiet for a few minutes, until Ikeda suddenly said "Morinozuka-san, I was wondering-" She broke off as Sato-san came back to their table with a tray of tea cakes for them. After the elderly woman had left, she continued. "I was wondering if you'd like to come to a kyudo tournament that I'm going to be in on Saturday. It's at the Maruyama dojo, not far from campus." She bit her lip slightly, something she did when she was nervous. She was obviously quite hopeful that he would come.

"Oh, do please!" she exclaimed after a moment of silence. "You're the only person I know who has an interest in martial arts apart from Otoo-san, and he can't come to see me because he and Okaa-san are on vacation at an onsen!"

"All right," Takashi said calmly.

"I mean, it's okay if you don't want to, I mean, you're not a kyudo practitioner yourself, so you can have other plans, but it would be really nice if you could…What?"

The tall boy smiled slightly to himself. _3…2..1…_

"_Really?_" Ikeda was actually bouncing up and down in her seat, her cheeks flushed with excitement (she looked extremely pretty in that moment, but Takashi was _not_ thinking about that). "You'll come?"

"Ah."

"Oh huzzah!" she cried, and took a large bite of one of the tea cakes in celebration. "It's always nice to have someone you know watching when you perform, don't you agree? Otherwise, it's just a sea of staring, alien faces."

Takashi nodded. When he was performing kendo, it was a great comfort to know that his family was sitting on the sidelines, cheering him on.

"By the way, how's Haninozuka-san?" Ikeda inquired, taking another bite of her tea cake.

"Fine. He's watching his girlfriend's play today, or else he'd be here as well."

"Mm. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I'm still kind of flabbergasted that Haninozuka-san managed to get a girlfriend. I'd consider him too cute and childlike to think of in a romantic way."

Takashi ducked his head. Truth be told, he had been pretty flabbergasted himself when Mitsukuni had bounced in one day and announced "I have a girlfriend! Her name is Asami and she's super cute!" He had sat frozen in place for a full half-hour before the news fully made its way to his brain, and even then he had had some trouble comprehending it. And when he had actually _met_ 'Asami-chan,' as Mitsukuni had called her, his brain had almost shut down completely. Asami Kobayashi was the total opposite of Mitsukuni. She was quiet, shy, and a good five inches taller than his cousin's diminutive stature. In fact, he was still kind of shocked at the fact that his cousin was in college. It seemed like only yesterday that he had been cleaning the mud off of Mitsukuni's face when they were children. He felt like a father being told by his daughter that she was engaged.

"Morinozuka-san?" Ikeda said, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you going to have that last cake?"

He looked down and saw that he had apparently finished off almost all of his tea cakes without noticing. One solitary manju cake remained, and Ikeda was eyeing it hungrily.

"You can have it," he said pushing it towards her. "I've got to go. My Economics class starts in about twenty minutes, and if I don't want to sit in the isles, I've got to get there early."

"Hurry then," Ikeda said, her voice muffled from the enormous piece of the manju cake she had just stuffed in her mouth. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

It occurred to him while he was walking down the street that proper manners said that he should invite her somewhere as well. Somehow, that made him think of a date, and that led his mind to thoughts that were definitely _ not _appropriate, so he started going through his class schedule to see what class he had after Economics. Maybe he would just buy the tea two times in a row or something for an obligatory thank-you.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: I am really sorry, but unfortunately, I won't be able to update _Snow on Red Maples_ for three weeks. Yes, I know. _Three weeks._ But to try to make it up to you guys, my darling beloved readers, I will post chapters three times this week: one today, one on Friday, and one on Sunday.

And don't worry, to all of you who want the rest of the Host Club to make appearences: They'll show up eventually.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Some Things of Note: A haramaki is a tube of cloth that is wrapped around the midriff as a stomach warmer. An onsen is a hot spring resort. And finally, a manju cake is a small sort of bun filled with red bean paste.


	6. Performances and Pals

Chapter 6: Performances and Pals

Saturday afternoon Takashi walked down a little street to the Maruyama dojo. It was a pleasant stroll, and he quite enjoyed it, but he found his thoughts drifting to Ikeda. He hadn't been able to see her yesterday, and it had snowed for the first time that winter. It wasn't the heavy, wet drifts of late December, but it had gotten colder overnight. He hoped that she would be warm enough in the loose kyudo uniform.

The Maruyama dojo was a medium sized building flanked by apartment buildings. A group of giggling girls was standing by the entrance, staring at any male that passed them. Takashi ignored them and stepped inside, took off his shoes in the entrance hallway, and walked into a large, airy room with ceder floorboards and an unusually high ceiling.

"Morinozuka-san!" a voice exclaimed, and he found himself being hugged by a terribly excited Ikeda, who was, he noted, wearing the hakama pants and keiko-gi of the kyudo uniform and was apparently quite warm. Her obi, he saw with amusement, had little white arrows embroidered on the dark cloth.

"I so glad you could come! I was worried that something might have come up yesterday and you couldn't tell me that you couldn't come, but here you are!" She took a deep breath after this speech and exaled loudly. "Come! Meet my friends!"

With that, she took Takashi by the arm and towed him to where a group of three people stood talking. "Friends!" Ikeda announced, "This is the boy I was telling you about!" The three turned to look at him, and he was able to see their faces.

One was a small, delicate girl, who's small size and short brown hair reminded him an awful lot of Haruhi Fujioka. Her skeptical expression _really _reminded him of Fujioka.

Next to her was a male with shocking blue hair and a ten-watt smile. He grinned at Takashi and held out his hand. "Hi!" he said with a strong Osaka-ben accent, "Pleased to meetcha!" When Takashi took his outstreached hand, the blue-haired boy crushed it in his grip. The boy was _strong_! But the small girl stopped him before the blood circulation in Takashi's hand was cut off.

"Enough, Arata. Leave the poor boy alone," she said. She gestured around the small group. "I'm Mika Sanu. The guy who tried to break your hand is Arata Yoshida, and this girl," she pointed to the last member of the group, a dark-haired girl who seemed to melt into the backround, "is Yoko Ageda." She smiled wryly at Takashi. "We already know who _you_ are. You're all Sumiko-san talks about."

"Alas! My poor Miko-chan! To be ensnared by this brute!" the blue-haired boy, Yoshida shouted, throwing his arms around Ikeda.

"Ha ha. _Please_ stop calling me that, Yoshida-san," Ikeda said, trying to extract herself from Yoshida's grasp, "You _know_ I hate it."

There was a shout from a man wearing a long rove, and suddenly Takashi was hustled to a row of narrow benches where he watched the contestants line up facing a row of straw targets. Ikeda was the last one on the right.

An elderly man hurried along the line of archers, giving each of them the seve-foot bow used in kyudo.

"Ready!" the robed man shouted, and all of the archers bowed before standing stock-still, their faces towards the targets.

"Takahashi!" the robed man roared, and the boy farthest from the right went into a stance. Quite honestly, Takashi couldn't tell if it was the right stance, but he gathered from the various people in the audience nodding and muttering '_good_' under their breaths that the boy's position was, in fact, correct. The boy lifted the enormous bow and carefully nocked the arrow, his leather archery glove making little whispery noises against the bow in the sudden silence that filled the dojo. Then he drew a deep breath, then slowly raised the bow high, so that it was almost perfectly straight, the arrow parallel to the floor. With the same slow, calm movements, he pulled the nocked arrow back until it reach his cheek.

There was a moment of complete stillness in the room. No one so much as breathed.

And then the boy released the arrow, and it plunged into the target where it stuck, whirring slightly. He held his stance for a few moments more, before relaxing. The audience exploded into thunderous applause.

"Oono!"

The performance continued, with each contestant being named before they positioned themselves, drew, stood, and eventually fired. Takashi could only make very loose judgements about each archer, but he generally able to tell which ones would be considered skilled. He was not surprised to see that most of them were not, as a matter of fact, very good. Several of them could hit the target, but most arrows fell short. Ikeda's friend Yoshido-san was one of the few really skilled archers, and while her two female friends weren't as good as their blue-haired comrade, they were definitely above average in their shooting.

At last, it was Ikeda's turn. The tall girl received her bow and arrow, just as everyone had, before she turned her feet and slid into a stance.

Takashi drew in his breath. Ikeda's stance was different from what all the others had done. It was wider, with the left foot forward and pointed straight ahead, whereas the right foot was far back, with the toes pointing right.

The arrow was notched, and Ikeda stood for a full two minutes before she drew the string back. And here too, Ikeda's technique was different from the other archers, She drew the string farther back, until the end of the arrow nearly touched her ear. Takashi heard the man sitting next to him gasp quietly, "What fascinating technique!"

There was a small swishing sound, and then Ikeda's arrow was protruding from the center of the target, quivering.

Several members of the audience actually stood and cheered. Takashi clapped as hard as he could.

"End of preliminaries!" the instructor said, and all the archers began to mill about, going to their friends and families for congratulations and whacks on the back.

Ikeda came bouncing over with a gigantic grin on her face. "Did you see me?" she asked, sounding like a child in its first performance of a play, "Did you watch?"

"Of course," he said, before Ikeda's companions walked over to congratulate each other.

"You were great, Miko-chan!" Yoshido exclaimed, tears of joy running down his cheeks, "Such elegance! Such style!"

"You really were very good," Sanu said, striding to stand next to her blue-haired comrade. "It's always fascinating to watch you shoot."

"Mm," Takashi agreed, and was suddenly stared at by three pairs of astonished eyes.

"Why, that's the first sound I've heard you make," Sanu said, and turned to the quiet girl, Ageda. "Don't you agree, Yoko-chan?"

"Yes. I had in fact begun to surmise that he was a mute." Ageda's speech was very formal, and had a lilting quality to it that was very pleasant to listen to.

"Will you come for the matches, tomorrow?" Sanu asked.

"If Ikeda wants me to," the tall freshman replied.

"Ooh yes! I did much better with you here!" Ikeda turned to her companions. "Didn't I do better?"

Her question was met by three sagely nods from her friends. "Yes indeed, you could not have performed better had the Emporer himself been here," Ageda commented.

"I must go," Takashi said. "Or I'll be late for dinner." He turned to Ikeda. "Are you going back as well?"

"No, I'll catch dinner with these folks."

"Mm." With that, Takashi began to walk out the door. He heard Yoshido shout, "We'll see you tomorrow, you uncultured brute!" before he was out on the street, heading back towards the university.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

Some Things of Note:

The Kyudo uniform: Hakama pants are large, loose pants, tied at the waist with a sort of drawstring/belt thing. Keiko-gi are the loose white shirts worn by most martial arts practitioners. An obi is the wide belt usually tied around kimonos, but in Kyudo women tie one around their hakama.

Yoshida's Nickname for Ikeda: 'Sumiko' ends in 'miko' which is the Japanese word for 'shrine maiden', a Shinto priestess. 'Miko-chan' would mean 'little priestess', referencing the female kyudo uniform, which is extremely similar to the clothing of a Shinto priestess.

The Kyudo Performance: Since I don't think I can really explain all the different positions in Kyudo, I'll let a professional do it. Go to _.org_ and read the 'Technique' page in the _Meishin Kyudojo_ part. It's fascinating.

Thanks to all my readers! Remember, I'll update on Sunday morning, and then there's no updates for three weeks. I really wish I could, but unfortunately, my relatives have no wireless access. And yes, I know that the chapter name is terrible, but I really couldn't think of anything else. Suggestions would be welcome.


	7. Tournaments and Troubles

Chapter 7: Tournaments and Troubles.

The first thing Takashi saw when he stepped into the Maruyama dojo on Sunday was a blur of blue headed straight towards him. His reflexes kicked in a moment later, and he sidestepped the blur before grabbing its collar and flipping it to the ground, his hand holding its head down.

"Whoa, truce!" a voice said, and he realized that he had just thrown one of Ikeda's friends. Yoshida, that was hs name. He released the blue-haired boy, his face red with embarrasment. What had he been thinking, letting his training take over like that? He could have hurt someone! A sudden thought made him shudder: _What if it had been Ikeda_?

Yoshida hopped to his feet, brushing off his hakama pants.

"Kami, but you're strong! I'm impressed!" He clapped Takashi on the shoulder and grinned. "I was aiming to land a good punch on you with a straightforward attack, but it looks like I'll have to find another way." With that, he turned on his heel and walked into the main room.

Ikeda jogged up to Takashi a moment later.

"Yoshida-san didn't hit you, did he?" she panted.

"No. I threw him."

Ikeda stared at him for a moment before throwing back her head and laughing. "Good!" she said, still guffawing, "That'll make him respect you!"

"What?" Takashi asked, bemused.

"Arata doesn't respect anyone unless they can best him in a fight," Sanu explained as she walked up to them, "He's kind of weird. And he already hates you because Sumiko likes you. He gets a little territorial about his friends."

"…Mm," Takashi grunted, still slightly confused.

"Oh!" Ikeda said suddenly, "I wanted to ask. After the matches today, do you want to have dinner with us?"

"Ah," he said, and was rewarded with Ikeda's most brilliant smile. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Okay! I've got to see who I'm shooting against, so I'll see you later!" She trotted off, still beaming.

Takashi turned to take his shoes off, and found himself facing Sanu, who was wearing a knowing smile.

"Hm?" he asked, and the short girl just shook her head.

"Oh, nothing," she said, just a little too innocently, before going to join Ikeda at the list of participating archers.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Takashi didn't know the first four archers, so he cat-napped during their demonstrations. He was awoken by loud cheering and someone poking him in the side. He looked down to see Sato-san, who was looking terribly excited.

'"You won't want to miss this one!" she said, "Everyone's betting on him going against Sumiko-chan. They're both at the top of the class."

His interest piqued, he looked up to see a tall, thin boy with sandy brown hair beginning to position himself. He was given his bow, and he raised it and nocked the arrow. Even with Takashi's limited knowledge of kyudo, he could tell that this boy was quite skilled. Everything about him was calm, poised. His breathing was even, and his hands were almost unnaturally steady.

There was a _shuk_ noise, and the boy released his arrow, watching it fly into the very center of the target. There was thuderous applause, and some cries of 'bravo!' from the audience.

"Nakamura!" the instructor shouted, and then next person repeated the process, although with less precision and skil than the tall thin boy.

When it came time for Ikeda to shoot, he saw to his distress that she looked markedly more nervous than yesterday. When she went into her unusually wide stance, she was biting her lip. Beside him, Sato-san drew in her breath.

"Ooh dear," she whispered breathily, "she's feeling the pressure."

"Will she be all right?" Takashi asked.

"I hope so," was all the elderly woman would reply.

Sato took her bow, drew it far back, and stood for a moment before releasing the arrow. Takashi could that sense Sato-san was holding her breath as it arced through the air.

The arrow hit the center of the target, and Sato-san exhaled with a big _whoosh_ as Ikeda turned around, grinning.

"Good job, Sumiko-chan!" Sat-san shouted over the applause, and Ikeda gave her a tiny wave.

The shooting continued, and each of Ikeda's friends shot in their turn. Yoshida did very well, as Takashi had expected, but her two female friends didn't impress the judges. They waved at their remaining comrades as they sat down on a bench on the sidelines. The targets were pulled back a foot or so.

The line continued to dwindle, as the targets continued to be pushed farther and farther back, and archer after archer was eliminated. In one rather spectacular case, a boy threw down his bow and broke the arrow over his knee before storming off in the direction of the bathrooms.

After about two hours, only four archers were left. Ikeda, Yoshida, the tall thin boy who was very good at archery, and a girl who he remembered seeing in his History of Science lectures. They had never spoken.

"Yoshida1" was the instructor's cry, and the blue-haired boy stepped forward, took his bow, and shot. There was a collective groan from the audience members, and Yoshida began to jog towards the bench before the judges could even announce if he was to be eliminated.

"Good luck, Miko-chan!" he shouted over his shoulder, "Wipe the floor with those bastards!"

"Tanaka!"

The History of Science girl repeated the process, although apparently she did much better than Yoshida, for she was allowed to stay another round. Both Ikeda and the tall thin boy won their places for another round with almost perfect shooting.

But the next round of this, the History of Science girl made a mistake in her footing, and the arrow didn't go far enough. She walked to the bench calmly, and sat down next to several other girls who began to talk with her almost immediately.

"Match! Ikeda and Kato."

So the tall, thin boy's name was Kato. Takashi felt like he should know the name. It sounded so familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

For the match, the two would be firing separately, and then simultaneously. Ikeda went first. Her feet slid smoothly, and her face appeared calm, but Takashi could see a flicker of nervousness in her eyes. She took the bow, and as she nocked the arrow and drew it back, he saw her eyes flick in his direction.

_Was she looking for him_? He waved at her, a tiny flick of the wrist really, but he saw her noticeably relax. Apparently Sato-san saw it too, for she look at him sharply.

Ikeda's arrow flew straight and ture, and it hit the center of the target with a satisfying _thump_. Ikeda stood back and Takashi saw her sigh soundlessly.

Kato took his stance and his bow with the same eerie calm that Takashi had observed he had all the other times he shot. The arrow was nocked, and shot. It too, embedded itself in the exact center of the target.

But now it was time for the simutaneous shooting. The targets were moved all the way back. Both archers received their bows, took their stances, and nocked their arrows.

There was a moment of total silence.

And then two arrows arched through the air.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

I know, I left if at a (sort-of) cliffhanger. But I'm trying to keep you hooked!

Some Things of Note: I have absolutely _no_ idea how Kyudo tournaments work. This is all my imagination.

I'll see you guys in three weeks!


	8. Smiles and Sake

Chapter 8: Smiles and Sake

_There was a moment of total silence. _

_And then two arrows arched through the air._

The sound of two arrows hitting the targets broke the silence, but still, no one spoke.

A couple of the judge's assistants got up and dashed over to the targets.

Neither archer had released their stance.

One of the assistants took out a measuring tape and held it next to each arrow. They dashed back to where the judges sat.

Finally, one of the judges stood and cleared his throat; an unnecessary gesture, as the dojo was as quiet as a tomb.

"Ahem. The match between Sumiko Ikeda and Akihiro Kato has been declared…" he paused and looked at a piece of paper in his hand, "a tie!"

The crowd was suddenly a tightly packed ball of jumping, screaming revelers. The rest of the archers poured out onto the main floor to congratulate the two archers, and both Ikeda and Kato were assaulted by well-meaning punches and slaps on the back.

Takashi felt something tug at his sleeve. He looked down and saw that Ikeda's quiet friend was pulling gently on his cuff.

"Quickly," she said, "we must hurry! If we do not leave immediately, we will not be able to procure a favourable table!"

Ageda, that was her name. He allowed her to pull him to the door, where they found Yoshida and Sanu waiting for them. Ageda gestured towards the horde of admirers surrounding Ikeda and said, "I will extract her" before she melted into the crowd once more.

"I'm always amazed when she does that." Sanu commented, "If we lived in the feudal era, she would be a ninja."

"And I would be the prince, and you would be the princess, and Sumiko-chan would be our guard!" Yoshida burbled happily.

"What about him?" Sanu asked, pointing a finger at Takashi.

"Why should I care about him?" Yoshida asked, looking at the tall freshman with a disinterested air.

"He's going to be hanging out with us anyway, so you should start assigning him roles. Trust me, he's not going to be leaving our little group anytime soon."

"Oh _fine_," Yoshida sighed, and then both of them stared at Takashi, examining him intently.

"Samurai," both of them intoned at the same time, just as Ageda returned with Ikeda in tow.

"What?" Ikeda asked, her forhead wrinkled in confusion, "Why is Morinozuka-san a samurai?"

Instantly, Yoshida launched into an explanation of the 'feudal era roles', but Takashi wasn't paying attention. He was paying attention to the fact that Ikeda was wearing a kimono that accented her figure…nicely. Yes, that was the word he was looking for. She looked very…nice.

Ikeda noticed him looking (staring, said that annoyingly perverted voice in his head, at her _voluptuous_ figu…he stopped that thought _right there_) and smiled nervously.

"I came straight to the dojo from my grandmother's birthday party, so I'm still kind of dressed up."

"Very pretty," he said quietly, and noticed an almost imperceptible blush spread across her cheeks.

"IS EVERYONE READY TO GO?" Yoshida shout loudly from behind them, making both of them jump. Takashi turned around just in time to see Sanu and Ageda punch Yoshida viciously in the stomach before assuming far too innocent expressions.

"Yes," Ikeda said from behind him, "Let's go."

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

The restaurant was apparently on the other side of town, and when Yoshida said brightly "I'll drive us!" the response was only a vehement "NO" from the three girls, so Takashi volunteered his services and found himself attempting to steer Yoshida's… he hesitated to call it a 'car', as it was more like very badly made box on wheels held together with rice paste and old pieces of tape, through streets that were obviously engineered to make driving through them as difficult as possible.

"It's just through here," Ikeda said, pointing to yet another winding street that branched off of their current one.

"Do you specialize in hard-to-find places?" he murmured, and was rewarded with one of Ikeda's glorious smiles.

"No, but the hard-to-find places usually make the best food," she said, and he grunted in amusement.

Another turn, and Ikeda directed him to park in front of a small, brightly lit restaurant with paper lanterns outside.

"In here!" she said, "This place makes the best unagi in Kyoto."

He nodded, and parked Yoshida's vehicle as best he could. The others jumped out, and he heard Sanu say, "I hate riding in that death trap. Buy a better car Yoshida!" as she walked through the restaurant's door.

"Come on!" Ikeda said, and took his hand to pull him inside.

Her hand was warm, and fit perfectly with his own (it would be so easy to pull her around and ki…).

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

The restaurant's food lived up to Ikeda's opinion of it. Takashi had never had better unagi in his life. After everyone had finished with their meal, and was trying to fish the last grains of rice from their bowl, Yoshida waved their young waitress over.

"Airi-chan! Give us some sake! Our beloved Miko-chan is a champion, so we must celebrate!" he shouted.

"Yoshida-san, I'm afraid I can't," she said nervously, twisting her apron in her hands, "None of you are twenty yet."

"Oh, come on Airi-chan! We're your best customers. Just this once? It's a celebration!" He smiled flirtatiously at her. "You can join us if you want."

"I…" The waitress glanced behind her at the cook, who gave an 'oh, all right' shrug and turned back to the stove. "I suppose I can make an exception. But just this once!" she warned, as Yoshida whooped in victory.

The sake came a couple of minutes later, and was mostly drunk in toasts to Ikeda and "the noble art of kyudo", and then more sake, and then things went odd and vague. Somewhere around his twelfth cup, he realized that everyone was very drunk, except for Ageda, who was watching them with amusment. At his fifteenth, he noticed that Yoshida had just kissed their young waitress, and that Sanu had just burst into tears and run out the door.

"Shouldn't someone follow her?" he asked in the general direction of the table, realized that he was facing the window, then turned around and repeated his question.

"Um. 'S okay. She lives…" Sumiko (when had she become Sumiko?) said, waving her hand at the door, "Um. 'Cross the street."

"Oh," he said, which seemed sufficient, and attempted to help himself to another cup. Then he realized that he was pouring the sake onto the table, which was annoying, so he turned to the nearest person and said, "Can you pour me another one?"

The nearest person turned out to be Sumiko. "Oh," he said, "Never mind. You're too drunk."

Then he realized just how funny that was, so he started to laugh.

"Whas so funny?" Sumiko asked suspiciously, so he explained it. She just looked at him. "I don' get it," she said, "Whas the joke?"

He was attempting to explain for the fourth time when Ageda took the sake away.

"It is time for both of you to go home," she said firmly, "Or else I won't have enough money to pay for all of this."

"Spoi'sport," Sumiko said, and stuck out her tongue childishly (Kami, but she was pretty). "Fine. I'll go." She stood, swaying, and started for the door.

"Morinozuka-san," Ageda said, "would you help her get to the campus please? I've got to go check on Sanu."

"Mm-hmm," he said, got up (good, he could still walk properly) and walked to the door. He peered out into the dimly lit street before starting off towards Sumiko's weaving form.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

Some things of Note:

Unagi is Japanese for 'eel', and I had an excellent bowl of it in Kyoto.

I'm sorry this chapter is so late! We only got back this morning, so I had to type this up very quickly. I'm hoping that I can have the Host Club make an appearance in the chapter after next, so cross your fingers!


	9. Sots and Saves

Chapter 9: Sots and Saves

_He peered out into the dimly lit street before starting off towards Sumiko's weaving form._

Unfortunately, it appeared that his reflexes and depth perception had not managed to stay with him. He bumped into a street lamp almost immediately, and then into a postbox that was strategically placed so that intoxicated patrons of the restaurant would bump into it on their way out. After some cunning maneuvering, he managed to set himself on a relatively straight course to Sumiko, who was still stumbling in the general direction of the campus. He had almost caught up to her when she tripped over the curb and pitched into the road. He stopped, and watched her as she sat silent for a moment, and then burst into laughter.

"I fell _down_!" she chortled, "Into the road!"

Takashi started to laugh as well.

Then he stopped laughing.

The unmistakable twin beams of a car's headlights were aimed directly at them. Sumiko stared at the fast-approaching lights for a moment before standing up and tottering to the middle of the road.

"Hello, Mr. Cardriver!" she said, giggling.

All the alchohol abruptly left Takashi's system. Several thoughts flitted through his head, starting with '_She's being __really__ stupid right now_', going to '_That driver is going really, really fast for a one-lane street_', and ending at '_Oh Kami, she's going to be hit she'sgoingtobehitshe'sgoingtobehit_'.

He ran towards Sumiko as fast as he could, his legs pounding painfully against the pavement. He didn't notice. Every one of his brain cells was focused on car approaching quickly (going too fast) and Sumiko (oh kami, please, _please_ let him get there in time).

The driver of the car noticed Sumiko and the horn blared. Sumiko just stood there, waving vaguely at nothing in particular.

Takashi's foot hit the curb and pushed against it, launching him into a flying leap aimed directly at Sumiko.

His straining arms grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her violently towards the opposite side of the street. His body followed not long afterward.

There was a rush of air as the car passed them, and then a loud screeching sound as it braked a few yards away.

Takashi realized that his hands were still holding Sumiko's shoulders to the ground in a death-grip, and he hurridly let go.

The driver of the car jogged up to them, puffing slightly. He was an overweight man who looked like he was in his mid-thirties. Both Takashi and Sumiko had to looked down to see his face.

"Are you kids okay?" he asked worriedly, "I was trying to put in a new CD, and I look up and there's a girl standing in the middle of the road." He shook his head and looked at Takashi. "Thank god you were there. That was some jump!"

Takashi managed a half-hearted smile at the man's comment. Then the man turned his attention to Sumiko.

"And what the hell did you think you were doing there, missy? You could have been hurt if it weren't for this young man!"

"I realize this," Sumiko said, and Takashi looked at her with surprise. Apparently she had sobered up somewhat. "I'm very sorry," she continued, "I was not myself. Please forgive me."

"Well, technically, it should be me who apologizes. Driver's aren't supposed to hit people, after all!" He gave a little chuckle at this, as if he had just made a joke.

Sumiko (he was having a _lot_ of trouble reverting back to calling her Ikeda) smiled politely. "Yes sir," she said, "But I really am _very_ sorry for causing you trouble. Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

"Make it up to me?" the little man said blankly. "Oh no, you needn't. I'm just glad you're safe." He checked his wristwatch and blanched. "And I need to go, before my wife gets _too_ angry. We're having guests tonight." He smiled apologetically at the two young adults. "I'm sorry."

"Oh no," they chorused, and watched him drive off with similar shell-shocked expressions.

"You're alright?" Takashi inquired as they began to walk towards campus again.

"Yes. All because of you!" Sumiko said. She flashed a grateful smile at him before continuing. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't. You were drunk." He paused for a second. "I was too. I should have stopped you from going into the road."

Sumiko stopped. "What?" she exclaimed, "You just said _both_ of us were drunk. Neither of us was thinking clearly. Don't blame yourself!"

She put her hand out suddenly, and leaned against the wall. "In fact, I think that I, at least, am _still_ drunk. My legs don't seem to be working properly."

"Here," Takashi said, and hastened to take Sumiko's arm. "I'll help you."

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

The rest of the walk back to campus was uneventful, except for a few stumbles on Sumiko's part. When they reached the main quadrangle, Takashi stopped.

"Which dormitory do you live in?" he asked.

"That one," Sumiko said, gesturing to an imposing brick building to their left. Takashi was walking towards it, still half dragging, half pushing Sumiko, when a thought struck him. The dormitory was females only. _How was he going to get Sumiko to her room?_

His fears were relieved when Sumiko said "Don't worry. M' room's on the firs' floor."

She was slurring again. He hoped she would be able to get to her door. But he would have to place his faith in her, as he couldn't help her farther than the door.

He helped her up the steps, and she stuck her key in the door. To his relief, it fit. He had had an awful fear that she hadn't remembered what building she lived in.

"See you tommorow!" Sumiko said just before the door slammed shut.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note. 

I'm sorry for the low-quality chapter. But please, keep reading! Remember, next chapter, the Host Club will appear!


	10. Hangovers and Host Clubs

The birds were still singing their morning songs when Takashi exited his building and began to walk toward Sumiko's dorm (_Ikeda's _dorm. Why couldn't he stop calling her Sumiko?), his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He winced as a lawnmower roared past. He had woken up with a splitting headache, and the early-morning bustle around campus was not helping at all. A weedwacker whined from somewhere nearby, and he put a hand to his head, desperately trying to block out some of the noise that seemed so terribly, horribly _loud_.

Sumiko's building was just around this corner, if he remembered properly. He hoped that _she_ had remembered properly. He had had immense trouble getting to sleep last night, as his mind had been filled with strange, frightning scenarios: Sumiko (_Ikeda_, what was wrong with him?) mis-remembering where her building was, Sumiko (_Ikeda_) not being able to find her room, Sumiko (_Ike_- oh, never mind) falling down and breaking something; an arm, a leg, her neck. As soon as he had woken up, he had thrown on some clothes and started off towards her building, determined to see if she was all right.

He turned the corner, and found that his memory had served him well, despite its inebriated state. He hurried up the steps to the small porch that shielded the door, and then stopped. He hadn't really thought what to do next. Should he push the buzzer and ask for her, no doubt waking her from her sleep? Should he wait on the steps, possibly for several hours, for Sumiko to come outside? Or should he just give up on the whole idea and see if she came to the Cracked Pot for tea?

Worry overcame politeness, and he pushed the buzzer forcefully. A female voice came through the speaker, crackling with static: "Hel-_bz_-o, you've re-_bz_-ched the fr-_chh_-nt desk of th-_chz_ Shoufuu dor-_bzz_-itory. Ho-_chh_ can I he -_phh_-p you?"

It took him a moment to decipher what the woman had said, but he managed to get the general gist of it relatively quickly. "Please see if Sumiko Ikeda returned to her room, please."

There was a moment of silence, then the voice emerged from the speaker again. "Su-_chk_-iko Iked-_hhk_-?"

"Yes."

"We'-_bzz_-l _chhz_-all up. Who's c-_hh_-lling?"

"Takashi Morinozuka."

"One mi-_ghhk_-ute."

"Thank you." He leaned his forehead against the cool granite of the wall next to the speaker and sighed. His headache wasn't getting any better. In fact, he'd say it was a little worse.

The speaker came one again suddenly. "We-_chk _called her, a-_tch_-d she'll b-_bzz_ right dow-_chnn_."

"Good. Thanks."

"No pro-_bzz_-lm."

He sighed again, and moistened his dry lips. He was beginning to wish he'd drunk something before leaving the dorm. He was terribly thirsty.

The door opened. He looked up and saw that Sumiko had just come out onto the porch and was standing in front of him. She was quiet, subdued. She was wearing the clothes she had had on yesterday. He thought that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Hey," she said, "How're you feeling?"

"Bad. You?"

She shook her head, which was obviously a mistake, as she clutched it immediately and her face screwed up in pain. "Like crap. I've thrown up twice."

He winced in sympathy. The first time he had ever gotten a hangover ( the aftermath of a _very_ good party celebrating one of his out-of-school friend's birthday), he had thrown up three times. It had not been a pleasant experience, and it was very obvious that Sumiko was not finding it pleasant either. Her face was pale and drawn, and she looked terribly unhappy.

An idea of how to both cheer her up _and_ help clear up both of their hangovers began to wiggle into his mind. Wiggling very persuasively…

"Um," he said, a tad nervously, "Would you come with me?"

Sumiko looked at him increduously. "You want us to go somewhere while both of us have hangovers?"

He nodded.

"Okay," she said, "Let me put on some clean clothes."

He nodded, and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed as she went back into the dorm.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

Sumiko emerged again about twenty minutes later, scrubbed and wearing another yukata. She was definitely the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as they walked towards the train station.

"High school," he said, and when she looked at him with a question in her eyes, "My friends."

She nodded, and fell silent. They stayed quiet all during their trek to the train station, and only broke the hush to ask for their passes at the booth. The ticket-seller handed over the pass with a cheery smile that faded slightly when she saw the circles under their eyes, and the way that they winced when a train passed through the station. "Have a good trip," she said, her tone a little uncertain, and they managed wan smiles.

The train trip seemed much, much longer than the hour-and-a-half it took. The only good thing that came out of it was the bottle of iced green tea that Takashi bought for them to share. Every rattle of wheels on the tracks, every thump of luggage being placed on a rack, almost _every damn sound_ made them wince. And the clear, bright light of the sun wasn't helping either.

"I wish it was cloudy," Sumiko groaned.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

After what seemed like an eternity on the train, they finally arrived at the correct station, and Takashi took Sumiko by the arm and guided her through the winding streets until they stood before the ornate gates of Ouran Academy.

"_This_ was your high school?" Sumiko said.

" Ah."

"Wow." She sounded stunned

He ducked his head, to hide the slight amused smile that was now on his face.

"Through here," he said, led her towards the gardner's gate, which was situated a few hundred feet away. He pushed it open (the gardners _never_ locked their gates), and began to walk towards the music building, Sumiko following close behind.

Takashi knew the way to the Third Music Room like the back of his hand, but it took him a little longer than usual because of all the times he had to go back and find Sumiko. She was forever being distracted by something in a the many branching hallways; a vase of rare flowers, a display case with antique instruments in it, a painting by an obscure artist. Then he would have to retrace his steps and hunt through the rooms until he saw her, usually with her back to him, staring at the object that had caught her attention.

When they arrived at the Third Music Room (at last), he sat her down in one of the chairs, retrieved two tea cups from a cupboard, and poured them the last of the iced tea he had purchased. He closed his eyes, and prayed that the schedule hadn't been changed. If he was correct, than lunch would be in about an hour, and either Kyoya or Tamaki would come up to make sure the flowers were all cor-

"Morinozuka-san!"

He looked up to see that Sumiko was standing, her face white, her hand clutching her teacup.

"What?" he asked, springing to his feet, looking around the room in an attempt to see what had frightened her so much.

"Can I borrow your phone? I need to tell my roomate I won't be in class today!"

He nearly slapped himself. How could he have forgotten that Sumiko had classes on Monday mornings? Quickly, he dug in his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. He handed it to Sumiko, who snatched it from his hands and immediately began to frantically dial several numbers. He pushed Sumiko back down onto the couch before sitting down as well and taking another sip of tea, still cursing his stupidity.

Several calls later, Sumiko had calmed down a great deal, and was reading a book entitled _Love in the Feudal Era_ that she had found on the top shelf of a dusty bookshelf in the corner. From her expression as she read, Takashi could tell that she thought it wasn't very good, but she continued to read it. Perhap she was bored. He couldn't blame her. Sitting in a room for an hour without much conversation wasn't the pinnacle of entertainment.

He was just wondering if this was a really, really stupid idea when he heard the door open and someone step inside.

"Mori?" someone asked, and he looked up to see a very startled Kyoya.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

At last, the Host Club! More next week


	11. Cures and Confusion

Chapter 11: Cures and Confusion.

"Mori?" Kyoya said again, and Takashi felt something that felt a bit like triumph at the sight of a Kyoya who wasn't calm and collected. It was a bit like seeing a movie actor on the street or in the supermarket.

Then Kyoya pushed his glasses up his nose, and he was suddenly back to being the cool, calculating businessman.

"I wasn't aware you were coming today. You… brought a guest…?" He looked at Sumiko questioningly.

"No. Hangovers. I need Hikaru."

Kyoya nodded, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. While he was dialing, Sumiko leaned forward and whispered, "_Who's Hikaru?_"

"Old friend," Takashi explained in an undertone. "He's… you'll see."

Sumiko frowned puzzledly and opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment Kyoya snapped his phone shut sharply and said, "He'll be right up. Along with the rest of the Host Club." He sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Honestly, they're like little children."

There was a loud thumping, and the door suddenly flew

Takashi hid a smile with the back of his hand.

The door flew open with a bang, to reveal the Host Club. At the front was Hikaru, holding a flask of something purple that bubbled and fizzed unpleasantly. He strode in with an air of purpose and halted at the little table that rested between Takashi and Sumiko's chairs. Then he clicked his fingers imperiously.

Kaoru appeared behind his twin, holding two spotless glasses and sporting a devilish grin.

"Hangover, Mori? I guess those college parties must be a lot of fun, huh?" He leered at Sumiko. "A _lot_ of fun."

Takashi glared at Kaoru and was about to tell him off when Hikaru lifted his hand imperiously and gestured towards the table. Kaoru quieted, and placed the two glasses down on the polished surface.

Hikaru lifted the flask ceremoniously and poured the burbling liquid into the glasses.

"Drink!" he commanded, and the two college students obeyed.

Mori had had Hikaru's hangover cure before, so he was prepared for the awful taste, but he could hear Sumiko sputtering. When he had drained the glass, he set it down and looked at her. She was sitting quite still, looking rather green.

"That tasted _terrible_," she said, and then stopped suddenly. "Hey, wait a minute. My hangover's _gone_!"

Hikaru nodded with satisfaction.

" The Hikaru Hittachin Hangover Cure!" he announced proudly, "Cures hangovers instantly!"

"Why aren't you selling this stuff?" Sumiko asked, "You could make a fortune, especially in towns with universities!"

Hikaru shook his head. "It doesn't keep. I haven't figured out a way to bottle it yet."

Their conversation was interrupted by Tamaki, who suddenly knelt down next to Sumiko and smiled at her dreamily.

"What is your name, O queen?" he asked, and took her hands in his.

"Hey, Lord. Why is she a queen and not a princess?" Kaoru asked.

"Because she is my elder!" Tamaki exclaimed, "And she is Mori's beloved!"

Both Takashi and Sumiko turned a brilliant shade of red and began to stutter protests.

"O-oh no, we're not…"

"No, she's not…"

They stopped, and looked at each other, before bursting into nervous laughter.

The Host Club was watching them with interest. Takashi heard someone (he was pretty sure it was Kaoru, but it might have been Hikaru) say in a stage whisper, "_I bet they like each other. Do you think they'll take as longto confess as Haruhi and the Lord?_"

Apparently, Sumiko had heard them as well, because she turned even redder. She was beginning to resemble a tomato.

"Guys, stop harrassing them," a voice said, and Haruhi pushed her way to the front of the group.

"But Haruhiiii," Hikaru whined, "It's so much _fun_ harrassing people!"

Takashi noticed Sumiko expression change suddenly, from a look of embarassment to one of confusion.

"Um," she said, "You call yourselves a 'host club'?"

"Yes, my beautiful flower," Tamaki said, and stretched out his arms in a dramatic gesture. "We are the Hosts!"

He began to dart about the room introducing the hosts as he reached them:

"These," he proclaimed, "Are Hikaru and Kaoru, the Little Devil type! This is Kyoya, the Cool type! Haruhi is the Natural type, and Mori," he paused and grinned at Sumiko devilishly, "is the _Wild_ type.

"And I, of course, am the Princely type!" He clasped his hands over his heart and spun around on his heel.

Sumiko was looking slightly bewildered.

"Wait a minute. I thought that a host club was a male brothel! Your high school allows that?"

"Oh no, my queen!" Tamaki exclaimed, "We do not offer those sort of…ah, _services_. We merely offer a place where girls can be entertained and loved after a hard day at school!" He hugged himself, tears springing to his eyes.

Sumiko frowned. "You're 'loving' girls? I thought you were gay!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

I'm sorry the chapter is so short. I have nothing to blame but my laziness. But! The entire Host Club has appeared!

I'm terribly sorry, but there might be another period of inactivity. It all depends if the cabin I'll be staying in for the next two weeks has internet axcess. Cross your fingers!


	12. Misunderstandings and Monikers

Chapter 12: Misunderstandings and Monikers

"_I thought you were gay!"_

Tamaki froze, his face horrified.

"I-I-_gay_?" he sputtered, staring at Sumiko with a shocked expression. "W-Why would you think _that_?"

"Well," Sumiko said, a tad sheepishly, "I heard Hittachin-san saying that Suoh-san and 'Haruhi' had confessed to each other, and then you said that that boy's name is Haruhi… I guess I jumped to conclusions."

There was a moment of silence.

"Yes, yes," Hikaru said in a slightly wooden tone, "It was just you jumping to conclusions. How funny. Ha-ha."

The rest of the Host Club broke out into nervous, brittle smiles.

"ANYWAY!" bellowed Tamaki, his smile even more nervous and brittle than the others, "Let's get back to our previous conversation. Who _are_ you, if you're not Mori's lady-love?"

"Um," Sumiko said, blushing slightly (she seemed to be doing that a lot, recently). "I'm just a friend of Morinozuka-san's. Um." She paused. "Why do you keep calling him 'Mori'?"

The hosts all looked at each other and shrugged.

"We don't really know!" Kaoru said, "By the time we came to Ouran, _everybody_ was calling him 'Mori'."

Sumiko looked at Takashi. "Do _you_ know when people started calling you that?" she questioned.

He looked at her for a moment, and smiled apologetically.

"No, huh?" she said, and leaned over to pat him on his arm consolingly. "That's all right."

He smiled again, and slid down in his chair a little. He _did_ know where his nickname came from, but he really didn't want someone like Hikaru to know its origins. That would only lead to suffering. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the older children who had danced around him, laughing and singing "_Mori, mori! Nursemaid, nursemaid!_" as he pulled himself and Mitsukuni out of the mud puddle. He had only felt that bad when he had accidently broken Mitsukuni's arm.

"But anyway," Sumiko continued, "We were out drinking with our friends, and… well, I've _never_ been able to hold my alchohol well, and there was an _awful_ lot of saké. I think everyone except Ageda got really drunk. I don't really remember anything from my fifth cup until…" She stopped suddenly, and looked at him for a second before continuing. "Until about halfway through my walk home."

"Thank goodness you got home safely," Haruhi said, speaking for the first time, "Something _terrible_ could have happened to you! There are so many weirdos and perverts in the area…"

Sumiko smiled thankfully at Haruhi. "Thank you for your concern," she said, "but I'm sure I would have survived."

Thankfully, she didn't see Takashi's face at that moment. Terrible images were going through his head. What if he hadn't gone after her? Horrible things might have happened! (Sumiko getting hit by the speeding driver. Sumiko falling down and hitting her head. Sumiko being dragged into an alleyway by a pervert…)

"Are you all right, Mori?"

Takashi jerked in surprise, and looked up to see Kyoya looking down at him with an knowing expression disturbingly like the ones that Sanu directed at him.

"A-ah," he stuttered, and looked at the rest of the Host Club, most of whom were shooting him odd glances. Only Tamaki and Sumiko were oblivious to the flash of horror that had crossed the tall boy's face.

There was a slight chiming noise, and Kyoya glanced at the grandfather clock that stood in the corner.

"Lunch is over," he announced, "We have to get to classes."

"All right," Haruhi said, and then turned to Sumiko. "It was lovely meeting you," the boyish girl said as she bowed deeply, "I hope you can come again!"

"Come in the evening!" Tamaki exclaimed, as he suddenly popped up in front of Takashi, "That's when the Host Club hours are!"

"I'll, um, be sure to visit," Sumiko said, bowing in return, "Thank you for the hangover cure. That stuff's a life saver."

Hikaru beamed proudly. "Come back any time you need it!" he proclaimed.

"I will," Sumiko promised, laughing slightly.

"Well," she said, turning to Takashi, "Are you ready to go?"

"Ah." He proffered his arm to her, and she smiled that bright (gorgeous, _fantastic_) smile of hers, and took it.

"Why thank you!" she said, and together they walked to the big double doors and exited the Third Music Room.

As the doors shut behind them, Takashi heard Haruhi say "Well, she was nice."

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

I'm _so_ sorry that the chapter is so late, and so short. But unfortunately, I am back in the hospital, _again_. Luckily, this time, I am allowed Internet access, and I will definitely update on time next week.

Again, I am _so_ sorry. You guys are great, and I won't fail you again.


	13. Returnings and Revelations

Chapter 13: Returnings and Revelations. 

The instant Takashi and Sumiko stepped off the train and onto the platform, they were assaulted by a crying Sanu, a quietly concerned Ageda, a rather harried-looking Yoshida, and a _very_ unhappy Sato-san.

"_Sumiko-chan!_" Sato-san roared, "_Where have you been?_" (Takashi noticed that her voice was surprisingly loud for such a tiny woman)

"_Sumiko-chan!_" Sanu wailed, "It's _so_ awful! Arata –," and she was cut off by Yoshida, who began to shout "I've _tried_ to explain, and she just won't _listen_, and" but he was promptly cut off by Sanu, who had just burst into a fresh bout of tears, and Ageda, who was attempting to comfort the weeping girl.

"HEY!" Sumiko yelled, "_What_ is the problem?"

"He-he-he," Sanu stuttered, her voice catching, "He –,"

"He kissed the waitress," Ageda explained in an unusually firm voice, "And she saw him."

"_Oh_," Sumiko said, putting a hand to her mouth in dismay, "_Oh_." Then she turned on Yoshida, who was staring at her like a deer caught in the headlights.

"_YOSHIDA!"_ she exclaimed, "How _could_ you? Oh, poor Mika-chan. It'll be all right."

Takashi tiptoed around the edge of the group until he reached the spot where Sato-san was standing.

"Um…dating?" he inquired, jerking his head towards where Sanu and Yoshida were engaged in their shouting contest.

"Not exactly, Takashi-kun. It's more along the lines of… I think the current term is 'friends with benefits'," Sato-san said with a sad frown, staring reflectively at the two people in question, "But both of them are in love with the other, and too _damn silly_ to admit it!"

Before Takashi could recover from the fact that he had just heard Sato-san _swear_, her face darkened, and she whirled around to stare at him.

"I was worried _sick_ about the two of you! You could have _called_! Takashi-kun!" she shouted, "_Why_ didn't you tell her to _call_?"

"I-I, um," he stuttered, caught off guard, "Hangover?" he finally ventured.

This was a mistake. Sato-san slowly turned towards Sumiko and her friends, somehow managing to keep Takashi in her visual field as well.

"You were all out _drinking?_" she said, in a terribly sweet voice.

Everyone froze. Yoshida and Sanu stopped screaming in each other's general direction. Ageda began to melt into the backround, but stopped with one sharp glare from Sato-san. Takashi felt like he was a small boy again, on the awful day that his mother had discovered that he had broken his grandmother's antique teapot.

"I – yes, we were drinking," Sumiko said, and she bowed. "I'm very sorry, Sato-san," she said, and her voice was little more than a whisper.

"You're _sorry_?" Sato-san said, her tone dangerously soft, "You _know_ that I worry about you, and then you disappear for a day, _without so much as a phone call_, and all you say is _sorry_?" She paused for a moment, and her eyes filled with tears. "This is _exactly_ what your _mother_ would do, and _look_ _what happened to her!_"

Sumiko's face went white, and then red.

" _You leave Mama out of this!_" she screamed, and then she turned on her heel and dashed out of the train station. Sato-san stared after her for a moment, and then stalked off in the opposite direction.

Takashi stared after Sumiko for a moment, and then turned towards the swiftly fleeing girl's friends, who were still standing, frozen in their tracks.

"Her mother?" he asked with his face screwed up with confusion, "I thought her father and mother are on vacation?"

"Her father and step-mother," Ageda clarified. "Her biological mother… well, that is a tale for her to tell you at her own leisure. She and her step-mother are very close friends, but… she loved her mother desperately, and she misses her terribly."

Takashi's forehead furrowed. "Her mother is… dead?" he asked.

Ageda shook her head. "It is not for me to tell," she insisted obstinately.

Takashi smiled a small smile. "Good friend," he said, and gave her a nod of approval.

Ageda looked at him, and he thought that he saw that strange, knowingtwinkle that so many people seemed to be giving him these days.

"That was the first time that I have ever seen you smile outside of Ikeda-san's presence," she noted, and then she gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder and walked out of the station with quick, precise footsteps.

Takashi looked around to where Yoshida and Sanu had been standing, and then quickly looked away. The two of them were wrapped in a rather… heated embrace. There was a lot of kissing going on. And… something that looked kind of like groping. His face flushed, and he tiptoed away as fast as he could, not wising to disturb the apparently reconciled couple in their reunion. (Their very _public_ reunion, said a slightly shocked voice in his head. Maybe he ought to interrupt them…?) He glanced back at the couple, and shook his head. He doubted he'd even be able to get their attention hen they were in that state.

He would _definitely _need to talk to Sumiko soon.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

Thank you everyone, for your concern over my health! I was in the hospital for a relapse of pneumonia, but thankfully, I'm out again, and hopefully not going back in!

In the next chapter:

Dare I say it? Something that looks kind of like… a _plot_! ***Gasp*! **Tune in next time to find out!


	14. Crying and Cake

Chapter 14: Crying and Cake

On Tuesday morning, Takashi found himself walking slowly towards Sumiko Ikeda's building around seven o'clock. The tall girl's outburst yesterday has triggered both his protective instincts and his curiousity, and he had spent a sleepless night wondering exactly _what_ had happened to Ikeda's mother.

He pushed the buzzer outside Sumiko's building and waited for the crackling voice to appear before identifying himself. There was a moment of silence, before the voice appeared again.

"I-_crrk_ sorry. S-_hhhk_-e doesn't wa-_hht_-t any visitors."

He stood quite still for a moment, and then pushed the buzzer again.

"Tell Ikeda-san that I will stand outside this building until she comes out," he said, "Tell her I will not budge."

The buzzer fizzled for a second, and then the voice said, with a sly crackle, "You and yo-_crrk_-r girl -_hhk_-riend have a fight?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he said, "We're friends."

"Yes, ye-_shh_ I've he-_chh_-rd _that_ one be-_ffh_-ore."

"_No_," he said firmly, and sat down of the steps, his face flushed.

Why did everyone think that he and Sumiko were dating? There was _nothing_ like that in their relationship. They were _platonic_ friends. (But it would be _very_ nice if he and Sumiko had something….else in their relationship. Perhaps something a bit more…physical. She was such a pretty girl, and he had needs, right? And those lovely long legs would look _very_ nice wrapped around…. Okay, _that_ was enough. He shook his head to rid it of _those_ sorts of thoughts.)

There was the sound of pounding feet, and Sumiko came hurtling through the door with her hair flying behind her.

"_Look_," she said, her face flushed with anger, "I really_ don't_ want to talk to anybody right now."

He stood slowly, and noticed that there were tears in her eyes. He took a tentative step forward and touched her shoulder.

"Sumiko…" he whispered softly.

She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, "But now is really not… what did you call me?"

Takashi froze. He…he hadn't called her _that_, right? He looked down at her big, tear-filled eyes that were staring at him in amazement, and opened and closed his mouth soundlessly.

"I…called you Sumiko?" he said at last, and smiled nervously.

"You did?" she said quietly.

Was it his imagination, or was her face getting closer to his own? He could see a tear still clinging to her eyelash. He could feel her breath on his face…

There was a sudden crash, and they jumped apart. Takashi jerked his head around to see a garbage man picking up bags from the curb.

"Um," Sumiko, "I guess you can call me by my first name."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment.

"Hey," she said suddenly, "Do you want to go somewhere?"

He blinked. "Ah," he said, and Sumiko smiled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in the back booth of a small pastry shop a few blocks away from the campus.

"Hey," Sumiko said suddenly, "I'd like to tell you about my mother. My real mother, I mean."

He looked at her over the edge of his tea cup, and swallowed a mouth full of the weak green tea.

"If you want to tell me," he said quietly.

"I… yes. I feel like I should."

"All right then," he said, and she began.

"My mother was… a unique person. She was always going off on some new, exciting trip without telling anyone. My father was constantly telling her to tell us before she went somewhere, to get a phone, _anything_. But she never listened. I… worshiped her. I thought that her trips were wonderful and exciting and fantastic." She paused for a moment and smiled reminiscently. "When I was about nine, I decided to go on my own little adventure, just like Mama. I saved up all my money, and took the train to Kobayashi. I wandered around the city for an entire day, and finally took the evening train home to Kushima.

"When I got home, my family was frantic. My mother had left in the morning to look for me, and hadn't come back. They were all afraid that my mother had found me and taken me somewhere. That was when I first realized how strained my parents' relationship was."

She stopped, and took a sip of tea before starting to speak again.

"My mother never came back. They found her body a few days later."

Takashi's eyes went wide.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's all right," she replied, "I try not to think about it."

A waiter stopped at their table and asked, "Are you ready to order?"

"Yes," Takashi said, grateful for the distraction, "I'll have to red mochi cake."

"And I'll have the chocolate cheesecake," Sumiko said. She was biting her lip, which he recognized as a sign that she was feeling upset.

"Your mother must have been a wonderful person," he said softly, and he patted her head gently.

She laughed slightly, but there was a slightly tearful quality to it. "Thank you. I certainly thought she was."

He didn't ask about the past tense 'thought', although he rather wanted to.

The waiter came at that moment, bearing their cakes on a plastic tray.

"Chocolate cheesecake and red mochi cake," he announced, "That'll be ¥1026."

"Here," Takashi said quickly, slapping the money on the table before Sumiko could reach for her jacket. The waiter smiled at him politely, and slipped the coins into his apron before he walked towards some other table.

"That was very courtly of you," Sumiko said, "My thanks, noble samurai."

He ducked his head in embarrasment. "You're welcome," he muttered, and he began to eat his mochi cake.

After a few minutes of eating, Sumiko suddenly tapped him on the shoulder.

"We should take Mitsukuni-kun here!" she said, "They serve good tea, and," here she pointed to the various rabbit ornaments that decorated a shelf on the far wall, "they have a rabbit-themed decór!"

Takashi smiled slightly, imagining his excitable cousin's reaction to this shop. That alone would be worth the expensive cake. But really, did _he_ of all people need to worry about how expensive the cakes were?

He nodded at Sumiko. "We should," he said, and left it at that.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

Believe it or not, I actually had finished this chapter on time, and uploaded it on Wednesday. But when I opened my computer today, a little error message popped up! It said 'Error: Document not received.'

I think the people across the street heard me yelling.

So, here is your chapter, late again, but with good intentions: please enjoy.

Some Things of Note:

Kobayashi is a city to the north of Kushima.

Mochi is the Japanese rice cake made of sticky rice paste. (I can't remember if I've already defined this one)

I assume you already know what chocolate cheesecake is, but if you don't: it is the most wonderful cake in the world. Go eat some. Now.


	15. Arguments and Arrangements

Chapter 15: Arguments and Arrangements.

The afternoon after Sumiko had told him about her mother, Takashi walked to the Cracked Pot for their 12 o'clock tea break. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a surprisingly happy Sato-san.

"Konichiwa, Takashi-kun! Did you sleep well last night?" she asked him.

"...Ah," he replied, a little confused.

"Oh good! I do worry about you. None of you college students seem to get enough sleep. You're all staying up until all hours to study, when you should be taking care of your health!" She smiled at him, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling with happiness, and then pushed him towards a corner table, which was already occupied by

Sumiko.

"She's happy," he commented as he sat down at the table.

"Yes. She and I had a long talk, and we made up," she said, smiling brightly at him.

"Mm," he grunted, pleased that the two women were friends again. He had been seriously worried that he wouldn't be able to get his daily afternoon cup of kukicha. And that would not be a good thing at all. Before he had met Sumiko, his daily caffeine rush had come from the bottled green tea that stocked a vending machine around the corner from his European Literature class, and even though the tea tasted like dishwater, he had gulped it down nevertheless. Because when Takashi Morinozuka was tired, bad things happened. Very, very bad things.

He shuddered slightly, and then began to sip his tea (which was already on the table, steaming). He was constantly amazed that he never got tired of it. Sato-san's brewer really was very good.

"So, Takashi-kun," Sato-san said as she trotted back to their table with their snack cakes, "Did you two have a good outing? Sumiko won't tell me about it."

"Ah," he said quietly, "Pleasant."

"It was pleasant? That's good! Where did you go?" She smiled at him. Her eyes twinkled menacingly

"Um. High school?" he offered, leaning away from her slightly.

"Your old high school? How fascinating! And _why_ did you go there?"

Takashi smiled at her rather nervously, attempting to distract her with some charm (because she was _really_ terrifying right now, but he had no illusions about what Sumiko would do to him if he told the old woman where they had gone).

"Visiting," he said in what he hoped was a mild tone (because he was becoming _seriously_ scared), and took a gulp of tea so that he wouldn't be able to talk any more.

But Sato-san was a tricky foe, and she did not give up easily.

"That's so nice! I must admit I was harboring some fears that you had accosted Sumiko and taken her somewhere... like a _love hotel_," she said in a stage whisper.

Takashi spewed his tea half-way across the room.

"No! Never! Not with Sumiko-dono..." he choked out.

"Oh...?" Sato-san said with pretended disinterest, "So you would never think of _Sumiko-dono_ that way?"

"No!" he said, panicked (and ignored the voice in the back of his mind that said _Yes you do. Every single fucking day_).

"So you don't find Sumiko-chan attractive?"

"Yes! _No_! I-" He trailed off into awkward silence, and stared at Sumiko helplessly.

"Sato-san," Sumiko said calmly, "Please don't try to embarrass Takashi-san into telling you where we went."

"Why, what_ever_ are you talking about?" Sato-san said. She smiled sweetly at the younger girl. Takashi could almost _feel_ the crackling energy as the two women glared at each other.

The phone that sat next to the cash register rang suddenly, and Sato-san trotted over to answer it, throwing one last armor-piercing glare over her shoulder.

"Thank goodness she's gone," Sumiko said in an overly cheerful voice. Takashi eyed her nervously. He was starting to get the impression that the two women were not, in fact, reconciled as Sumiko had implied.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he wasn't just apologizing for the awkward scene that hd just transpired, but for _everything_: the host club, and the train ride, and her mother, and Sato-san being angry at her because of something stupid that he had done.

"It's all right," she said, and she smiled at him in a way that told him that she understood.

"Oh!" she said suddenly, "I almost forgot! I've got a rematch with Kato. It'd be nice if you could come." She took a sip of tea and stared at him over the edge of her cup.

"I'll come," he said quietly, "with Mitsukuni."

"Mitsukuni-kun! How is he?" Sumiko asked eagerly.

Takashi ignored the twinge of jealously at the fact that she called is diminutive cousin Mitsukuni-_kun_, and he was only Takashi-_san_. "Fine," he said.

"I haven't seen in him in several weeks. It'll be nice to see him at the tournament. Two friendly faces are better that one you know!" she said, laughing slightly at her own joke.

He smiled, and then frowned. He had the oddest feeling... like something wasn't quite right; an odd sort of inkling.

"Are you all right, Takashi-san?" Sumiko asked.

"Hmm? Oh. Fine."

"You looked quite lost in thought," she said, and took another sip of tea (her fingers curling delicately around the cup, her full mouth shimmering slightly with moisture like a dewy rose...)

Shit. It really wasn't like him to wax poetic about a girl. There was something wrong with him.

"So," Sumiko said, "It turns out the tournament's on our campus! You don't have walk too far to get to it. Actually..." she looked at him oddly. "Which building do you live in?"

"Kuri Hall."

"Oh! That's right next to the sports center!" She leaned forward, a strange gleam in her eye. "Does your dormitory allow girls to spend the night?"

He blinked at her, and then felt his cheeks grow faintly warm. "Y-yes," he stammered.

"Excellent! Takashi-san, might I spend tomorrow night in your room?"

His whole face turned as red as a tomato. "Yes," he said again, and then took a hurried mouthful of tea to prevent himself from saying anything stupid, like 'Maybe we can sleep in the same bed', or simply 'Will you have sex with me? Because I really, really like you."

So he drank his tea quietly, and didn't say anything.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hello y'all! So you know all those trips to the hospital that were preventing me from updating? Yeah. It turns out that I had a tumor! So I had to have that taken out, and I've been under observation for that last month or so. But luckily, it appears that I am apparently doing 'extremely well' according to my wonderful doctor, and I will begin writing more again. Huzzah, hooray, and Merry Christmas!

The Wednesday updating schedule does not work a hy more, so I'll be updating on Sundays now.

Some Things of Note: 'Kuri' means 'chestnut'.


	16. Cluelessness and Concerns

Chapter 16: Cluelessness and Concerns

Takashi lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling as the early morning sunshine slowly crept through the blinds. Sumiko was coming today. She was going to stay here. She was going to sleep in his room. She was going to be _sleeping_ in his _room_.

He realized that his hands were shaking. He vaulted out of bed and splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom.

He couldn't focus at all in any of his classes, even in History of Ancient Japan, which was usually his favorite class. And in Economics, he didn't even register that the girl sitting next to him was giggling and taking pictures of him with her cellphone. Sumiko had told him that she couldn't meet him for tea that day, something that he was infinitely grateful for. He didn't think he'd be able to face her.

"Are you all right, Takashi?" Mitsukuni asked him during dinner. "You seem distracted."

"Ah."

"Why?"

"...Sumiko-san."

"Ahhh." Mitsukuni took a reflective bite of his cake. "Sumi-chan. How is she?"

Takashi stared down at his tea. "Fine. She's shooting again tomorrow."

"Great! Are we invited?" The boy looked at his cousin expectantly. "Takashi?"

The taller boy seemed to be engaged in a staring match with his cup, his face screwed up in concentration.

"...Mitsukuni."

"Yes, Takashi?"

"If, _hypothetically_, a boy was...attracted to a girl, and that girl was staying in his room so that she could get to an event, and they were going to be sleeping in the same room, what should he do?" Takashi asked carefully.

Mitsukuni stared at his cousin with an odd expression on his face. "Wow. I don't think I've heard you talk so much all year," he said. "Um. Well, to tell the truth, it sounds like a romantic comedy setup in a manga."

Takashi's ears went red.

"A smutty manga," Mitsukuni elaborated.

Takashi's face flamed.

"Like, the kind of manga where they show the two people having se-"

"I SEE!" Takashi shouted. He didn't think he could blush any more.

"But in all seriousness, if the girl is not aware of his feelings, it seems like the perfect scenario to confess."

Takashi nodded.

"And maybe, after he confesses, he can have hot se-"

"THANK YOU!" Takashi interrupted again. He really did not need _those_ sorts of images in his head.

Mitsukuni put his head to the side and smiled at Takashi. "You two are really oblivious, aren't you?" he said quietly. "Well, you'd better go. You'll be late for to let Sumiko in."

"How did you..."

"Go on, hurry!"

Takashi blinked at his cousin, and then rose from the table and hurried out of the restaurant. There was a fifteen-minute walk to Kuri House, which meant that he was able to gather his thought on the way. He was terribly nervous for some reason. Really, it was just Sumiko (who was the most beautiful girl he had ever met). It wasn't like the Emperor was coming to call (oh god, he couldn't remember if he'd made his bed).

"Hey, Takashi-san!"

He looked up to see Sumiko waving at him from the steps of Kuri House. She was carrying a large duffle bag that had an arrow poking out of it.

"Waiting long?" he asked her as he unlocked the door.

"Oh no. I just got here."

"Ah." He led the way up the stairs (_why were they both being so polite?_) and onto his floor.

"This is my room."

"It's very nice."

They stood there, staring at each other.

And then simultaneously blushed beet red.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: So, a bit of a short chapter, but I promise that the next one will be nice an long.


	17. Discord and Dreams

Chapter 17: Disquiet and Dreams.

There was an awkward silence, as the two stared at each other nervously.

"Um...Make yourself at home," Takashi said at last, scratching his head. "The bed's over there."

"Oh, no! I brought a bedroll. You can take the bed," Sumiko protested as she set her bag down on the floor.

That explained the size of her bag. But Takashi had been raised a Morinozuka, and Morinozukas were, above all else, gentlemen. "You take the bed," he said firmly, and put the duffle bag on the bed with an air of finality.

"But where will you sleep?" Sumiko asked.

"Couch."

"Oh."

There was another awkward silence.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"No, I ate a little while ago."

"Ah."

She smiled suddenly. "We're being kind of silly, aren't we?" she said, sitting down on the bed.

"Hmm?"

"We're acting like middle-schoolers who've never been alone with someone of the opposite sex before."

Takashi blushed. "Yeah," he said. He didn't mention that this _was_ one of the only times that he had been alone with a girl before. The Host Club had always been filled with people, and the surplus of fangirls at Ouran had ensured that he never had a girlfriend for more than a few days. In fact, Sumiko was the first openly female friend he had ever had ( he didn't really count Fujioka, seeing as she was more like a little sister to him. A cross-dressing little sister, but still.).

"So what do you want to do?" Sumiko asked. He shrugged in reply (not mentioning the ideas that the perverted part of his brain supplied, because those were bad, _bad_ thoughts).

"We-ll, if you don't have any preference..." Sumiko said with a hopeful smile. She reached inside her bag and pulled out a Go board (_Kami_, she fit _that_ in her bag? Did she have her whole _room_ stashed in there?).

"Fancy a game?" she asked. "I also have some good tea..."

Tea and a game of go with one of the prettiest girls he had ever met. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god was watching over him.

They played four games, two of which Takashi won, and two of which Sumiko won. Towards the end of the last game, Sumiko was beginning to yawn.

"I think I'll turn in," she said. "It'll be a big match tomorrow."

"Ah." Of course. She should be well-rested for the match.

Sumiko stood and stretched before rummaging inside the duffle bag and pulling out some clothes. "I'm going to change!" she called as she walked into the bathroom.

Takashi sighed and passed his hand over his face. This was a mistake. He wasn't going to get any sleep with Sumiko in the room. Sure, he had always thought that she was an attractive girl, but recently... well, recently he had been hypersensitive to her presence. When they sat next to each other, he noticed every breath she took, and the way that she chewed on her lip when she was nervous. And even worse, he had been terribly aware of his own actions. He would suddenly realize that he had no idea how he normally did things. Did he always sit like this? Did he usually drink water in a different way? Just trying to _breathe _casually was exhausting.

"Are you okay?" Sumiko said, awaking him from his reverie. "You're all tense." She was about an inch from his face, wearing a concerned expression on her face. He jerked back in surprise, slamming his head into the footboard of the bed in the process. "Ow," he grunted, rubbing the sore spot.

"Are you okay?" she asked, bending down to look at his head. He noticed suddenly that she was clad in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts (that revealed her long, slender legs; expanses of lovely white skin...no, no, _no_, he would _not_ think those thoughts). He looked away hurriedly. It would be very bad form to get a nosebleed in front of a guest.

"It doesn't look that bad," Sumiko said, still inspecting his head. "You might get a bruise, but not a bad one."

"...Hm." he grunted as he stood, still averting his eyes.

"Well. I'm going to bed. Good night!" And with that, Sumiko climbed into his bed and pulled the covers over her. Takashi went over to the couch and flicked off the lamp on the table.

"Good night," he mumbled as he lay down.

He closed his eyes with a sigh and tried to ignore the slumbering figure across from him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

When he opened his eyes, he was in one of the chairs of the Third Music Room. The Host Club was around him, having tea. They were all dressed in period costumes from the Meji Era.

When he looked down at himself, he found that he was wearing what looked like a samurai costume. There was a sword at his side, and when he pulled it from the sheath, there was the sound of metal on metal, and he realized that the sword was real. He looked up and discovered that the Third Music Room had disappeared, and had been replaced by a kendo dojo. The Host Club was sitting on the sidelines, chanting "_Sentou, sentou, sentou._" There was a a man standing opposite him, holding a kendo sword.

"Come!" the man said, "We must fight."

"I can't fight you," Takashi said.

"Then you are a coward," the man replied, and he dropped into a kendo stance.

"No," Takashi tried to explain, "I've got a real sword and you don't. I'll kill you."

"That is irrelevant," the man said. Then he raised one black-gloved hand and took off his mask, and Takashi realized that it was really Sumiko, and the sword was suddenly a bow that she was aiming at his heart.

"Raise your sword," she commanded.

"I can't," he said again, and she released the arrow...

And Takashi woke up, drenched in sweat. He did not fall asleep again for the rest of the night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Author's Note: Sick week. Blech.

Some Things of Note:

'Sentou' means 'fight'.

And thanks to **Lady Lawless**, who pointed out that kyudo doesn't actually have elimination matches. Oops. Well, anyone who can come up with an answer as to _why_ Sumiko's dojo _does_ have elimination matches gets an Evolutionary Marvel No-Prize!

Thanks!


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